


As He desires

by NixiAether



Category: Command & Conquer (Video Games), Command & Conquer: Rivals, Tiberian Sun
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, First Kiss, Slow Romance, War Table Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-17 12:23:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16516442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NixiAether/pseuds/NixiAether
Summary: Oxanna, the chief Nod propagandist, once becomes a bit TOO inspired about Kane.P.S. There is a missile launch!





	As He desires

**Author's Note:**

> CAUTION: There is _romance_ here! If you can't stand C&C romance, please do not read it.  
> CAUTION: English is not my native language, unfortunately. I did my best though.

Oxanna was delivering a speech for the Brotherhood. The ocean of righteous followers, enlightened by purifying rage, started condensing into a mighty storm. She spoke of courage and devotion, breathless with overwhelming feelings of purpose and unity.  
— One vision!, she cried, waiting for the answer.  
The crowd, rapidly gaining momentum, moved in peculiar rhythmic waves,  
— One purpose!, the echo boomed, loud as thunder.  
We’re getting support for the next advance on GDI, Oxanna noted, paused to restore breath and continued her preach. She spoke of the Ascension in a velvety singsong, of bitter hatred towards the oppressors — lowering her voice to a rasping whisper, of the Prophet — chanting crystal-clear verses of ultimate allegiance. The metaphorical crystals were shining in her words and in the minds of the roaring crowd, blindingly pure green, radiant color of life, blood and bone of the Brotherhood, the sacred Tiberium.  
The bright-eyed followers were dissolving into ecstatic state, forming united body of the Brotherhood, ready to fight until the last breath.

Oxanna was feeling elation herself, as always, savoring her own magnetizing song, her gift and pride. Warm red glow of the Temple was delicate, almost intimate to her. Her words carried hidden meaning, invisible to the inspired mob. Behind these ornate walls, behind the shining symbols of Nod, her loyalties stand beside Kane only. After the mass finished and human energies, directed outwards, sprang towards fulfilling His will, Oxanna took a short bike ride to the current command center.

The modest quarters were dark. Tired and sweaty, she stumbled into shower, changed into an oversized standard issue militant t-shirt and curled in a cozy armchair with a glass of fine Bosnian red wine. Minutes ticked slowly as she peered into darkness. Behind the window, soft green glow adorned the gloomy horizon. Time thickened like flowing honey. 

The wine was oaky, bringing memories of sunsets in early autumn, heavy, burning, which smelled like smoke from garden bonfires. Or was it from missile launches? Thoughts were rising and ebbing in her weary mind, images of past and ghosts of the future, faces of allies and traitors, and among them the Prophet, serene and powerful. His unreadable dark eyes have been seeing something beyond their war, which has become so habitual. Oxanna wondered how these eyes would look like half-closed with pleasure. Then she thought of a daring plan.

It wasn’t too late yet, still business hours, if that could be applied to the organizational structure of the Brotherhood. No events scheduled though, as nothing important was happening that day. There was a test missile launch planned, more a firework display for the newly-converted, than an actual need. Absentmindedly, she reached for the terminal, sent a meeting invitation and poured some more wine.

Unexpectedly, a confirmation message appeared. Oxanna checked the mirror: loose t-shirt barely covering her hips, ruffled blond hair, bare feet. She gave herself a reassuring nod and peeked into the walkway. All clear. Moving to position.

The briefing room was empty. Oxanna looked around and finally noticed the dark silhouette nearby, concealed in shadows. No one uttered a sound.

She moved closer so they stood beside each other, almost keeping the formal distance. The view from the the panoramic window was magnificent. Lush tiberium field glowing in the background, jagged edges of storm clouds above, base lighting dimmed with only red sparks of surveillance sensors. 

Preparing to say something, Oxanna paused, as Kane gestured her to be quiet. Secretly, she enjoyed watching his index finger touch his lips. Her next inhale brought his scent, pepper and nutmeg and leather. Warm tension became hot, then aching, then unbearable. Oxanna exhaled, moving closer, then took the Prophet’s hand and placed a careful kiss onto his open palm as a symbol of sacred communion. Her tongue traced along his fingers, barely touching, caressing, stopping at the heavy signet ring.

Next, there was his other hand hovering over Oxanna’s bare thigh; she rose to meet Kane’s intense dark stare becoming misty with desire. She felt like committing sacrilege when he gave her a slow, meditative kiss. An incredibly delightful kind of sacrilege.

The Prophet was graceful and silent, as he nudged Oxanna onto the briefing table top and pulled her t-shirt off. He spent some sweet time, appreciating her curves, leaving hot burning spots where he touched and kissed. Contoured by the soft green light, they made love, gently, savoring the moment, memorizing all these feelings as precious souvenirs. Eerie silence was making their connection surreal, magical, as Oxanna cut all the wandering thoughts away and contemplated the present moment, her expression of ultimate loyalty. Her breath was becoming heavy, when infrasound hum started outside and grew to deafening roar. Missile launch flare lighted the world for a moment, when Oxanna bit her lip, going over the edge.

Who is He? A Messiah, a madman, a sociopath, is he even human?, she mused later. For Oxanna the answer has always been clear: Kane is her beloved Leader, and she would fight and die for Him.

— As He desires!, she concludes the next speech, and the crowd rises boiling, and so does her heart.


End file.
